


Across the Grey, Salty Sea

by thecheshirepussycat



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Dunkirk Au, Explicit Sexual Content, French Louis Tomlinson, Light Feminization, M/M, Prostitution, Soldier Harry Styles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-15
Updated: 2020-11-30
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:28:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 19,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27568294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecheshirepussycat/pseuds/thecheshirepussycat
Summary: Prompt 212: Alex from Dunkirk and French escort/prostitute Louis who ends up in Alex’s quarters more nights than not. Alex gives him his dog tag to wear maybe just a lot of smut and dirty talk with Louis being a pretty princess.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Comments: 105
Kudos: 408
Collections: Bottom Louis Fic Fest 2020





	1. WEEK ONE

**Author's Note:**

> thanks to everyone who told me they were excited for me to return once again, the mods for being patient with my very slow process, and to @femstyles for the awesome Louis manips :)
> 
> I hope it's okay with the prompter that "Alex" is just "Harry" with Alex-like elements, and that Louis isn't visiting him, but the other way around, because I couldn't rationalize Louis being allowed in the british camp :) also that i didn't write in Louis' french accent, because i tried to but i couldnt keep up with it

**Spring 1940. Dunkirk, France**

The first time Harry every saw Louis, it was after a long week of war. The first war Harry had ever been in.

The English troops were dropped on the French beaches, combined with Belgian and French forces, and worked to keep Germany’s Nazi forces out of the small beach town, which was to be used as one of England’s entryways into mainland Europe to help their allies in the war. By the time Harry’s unit arrived, Germany had not taken to the town, so they were assigned to stay as peacekeepers and security for any incoming Germans.

So far, Harry’s days were spent following weathered officers, older men who had served in the Great War, clearing out the bordering forests of any Nazi sentries who came to spy on the English’s work. He hadn’t slept, he’d barely eaten, and he’d already seen his first fallen soldier. The nightmares he’d been warned about hadn’t yet started, at least.

Their reward for their work was a trade to supplies security in the town, which meant long days, less gunfire, and the occasional evening off to enjoy the city. The French civilians were thankful for the soldier’s presence and welcomed them in every public establishment. On the first night Harry was dragged to a bar in the center of town, where dark lighting, cigarette smoke, and French music drifted from the windows.

While the other boys decided to go right for the bar and drink the night away, Harry grabbed a place for himself in a corner, watching celebratory chaos around him. It was here that he first laid eyes on Louis.

Across the room at the bar, there was a group of them. Men and women with pretty faces and smiles that didn’t quite reach their eyes, draping themselves over the soldiers and passing drinks to their eager hands. It’d only been a week, and yet Harry watched while the boys gave themselves to French prostitutes, not that he would judge them for it, he just didn’t think these affairs would happen so soon. As Harry observed his fellow soldiers, his gaze drifted to possibly the most beautiful man Harry had ever seen. The man, it seems, saw Harry first, smiling already when their eyes made contact. Harry was quick to look away, staring down at the table, picking at some splinters of wood on the edges. It was too late, however, as the man approached him with two bottles of pop in his hands.

“ _Bon jour_ ,” his sweet, musical voice broke through all the chatter. “Is this seat taken?”

Harry shrugged, “Suppose not.”

“Good,” he sat down, pushing one of the bottles to Harry. “I’m Louis, and you are?”

“Harry,” the soldier grunted. He stared at the bottle, but made no move to drink from it.

“Well, Harry, why aren’t you over there with your friends?” Louis asked, tapping the top of his own bottle with a tiny finger.

“They’re not my friends, we just share a uniform,” Harry said. He finally took a real look at Louis’ face, sharp cheekbones and long eyelashes leaving shadows under the dim lighting. His eyes, however, were blue and warm.

“Oh, I see,” the smile doesn’t leave Louis’ face as he brought the bottle up to his pink lips. “Well either way, you should join the celebration. We are happy to have you here.”

“Thank you—er, you’re welcome. I just don’t feel like getting drunk and hungover in the morning. We have a job to do, and there won’t be any days off to recover for…well, I don’t know how long.”

“That I understand, and _that_ does not have alcohol in it.” Louis said, pointing to the bottle. It only took a couple bats of his lashes to convince Harry to actually take a drink. “Thank you for accepting it. Is it alright if it stay? I make very good conversation.”

“Um, sure.” Harry grunted, lips pursed. Back at home, Harry wouldn’t hesitate to accept the company of a beautiful man, no matter his occupation. Out here though, in a foreign land where war is meant to break out at any moment, Harry felt he should control those urges.

“May I ask, are you going to the boarder like so many others, or are you to stay here with us?” Louis asked.

Harry frowned. “Why, you a spy?”

Louis let out a light laugh. “No offense, but if I were a spy, don’t you think I’d be trying to trick an officer?”

“Alright, then why are you so interested in my job?”

“I don’t know,” Louis shrugged. “We’ve been watching you come in and out all week, sometimes there are familiar faces around, but I thought you’d all be headed to the border where the Germans are.”

“You’re sure you’re not a spy?”

Louis giggled, clear blue eyes crinkling. “I promise.”

Harry took a long sip of his drink, and he finally figured he was being too paranoid. “We’re staying behind to keep your town safe, so we can keep using it for passage to bring more troops.”

“So, _you_ will be staying?”

“Yes, I’ll be staying here,” Harry said.

“But you don’t want to? You’d rather be at the front line fighting Germans?”

Harry snorted. “No. I’d rather be at home. We all got sold this idea of doing our duty for King and Country, but I can’t help but feel like we’re just fodder to them. We’re not even fighting an official war, and I don’t see why your army can’t protect its own borders.”

The smile faded from Louis’ face. He could tell Harry’s words weren’t personal, just the thoughts of a scared man. “We’re happy you’re all here, either way.”

Harry could see the hurt in Louis’ eyes, and he sighed. “Look, I’m sorry, it’s just that I’ve got actual people at home counting on me. I…I can’t die out here.”

“I understand, your family? Or maybe you’ve got a girl?”

“No, definitely not a girl,” Harry said, glancing around the bar to make sure none of the other boys heard.

“A boy then?”

The room felt like it went silent for a moment, as their eyes met with a knowing glance. It wasn’t a big deal at home in his small village where every neighbor was more of a friend, but everywhere else, especially with the other soldiers, Harry had to be careful about revealing his true self. “N-no, no boy either. Just my mum and my sister.”

“I see,” Louis said quietly, sipping from his drink. The change in Harry’s demeanor was obvious, so Louis looked for a way to lighten the mood. “Do you all live together?”

“Yes, we’ve got an old family home. It’s just the three of us and the dogs, and several empty rooms. But the property is beautiful, full of green and flowers and a little secluded from the rest of the village,” Harry stopped suddenly, voice caught in his throat. He couldn’t think about home, not while he had no idea when he’d be back.

“That sounds lovely,” Louis said, moonlight from the window twinkled in his eyes. “What about your father? He isn’t around?”

Harry cleared his throat of the lump, unable to make eye contact. “No, um, he died actually. When I was a baby. He fought in the Great War.”

“That is terrible, I’m so sorry.” Out of instinct, Louis placed his hand on Harry’s, who for some reason, didn’t pull away. He let it be held, let Louis rub his scraped knuckles with small, soft fingers.

Without moving that hand, Harry downed the last of his drink, eyeing the other boys at the bar. He was completely unnoticed back there, with this beautiful French boy, the only one who could see him. Harry wiped his mouth on the back of his hand, and placed the bottle back on the table, middle finger circling the rim. He let himself look back at Louis, the candlelight behind him made it seem like he was glowing.

Harry coughed, blinking himself from his thoughts. “Your, um, your English is very good.”

“ _Merci_ ,” Louis said with a bright smile. “I used to live in your London, for about ten years.”

“Oh? Why’s that?”

Louis’ shoulders visibly tensed. “My parents were fashion merchants, they would sell to the high-end shops, and for a while it was easier to live in the city. I’d go to school over there, and summer and holiday here. I picked up a taste for the language, and tea, but not much else.”

“Is that why you moved back here?”

Louis retracts his hand, folding both hands on his side of the table. “No, um, I would have stayed, but my parents, um, they passed a couple years ago. The business folded and I…I had to stay here,” a sadness came over Louis’ eyes, but it was tucked away quickly with an overly upbeat smile. “I’ve made my own way, though, and now I have all of you here to remind me of my other home. I always loved those English boys.”

Harry couldn’t stop the light _humph_ sound that came out in response, caught between feeling bad for Louis about his family, and flustered by the confident flirting. It was almost off-putting how comfortable Louis was with him, with the smiles and the touching. He must have done this sort of routine dozens of times, not that Harry thought he was lying about everything, just that Louis was trying to get close so fast because, _well_. Louis was right, however, the company was good, the conversation was somehow familiar and comfortable, and Harry didn’t mind not feeling so lonely.

They kept the rest of the conversation light, with Harry telling Louis stories about his sister and their dogs, the silly children who run around the village pretending to be Arthurian Knights, and how life was so quiet and uneventful in Cheshire. Louis listened intently to every word, eyes shining brightly at every description of the quaint life Harry longed to return to.

“What did you do in this cute little village?” Louis asked curiously.

“I’m a baker, was a baker,” Harry said.

Louis’ entire body perked up at that, and his smile seemed to brighten up their dark corner of eh bar. “Oh! I love that! What is your specialty?”

“I do everything really, breads, pastries, cakes, cookies. I worked with an older couple in the village bakery, and everyone comes to us for whatever they need. We’re probably the most popular place in town.”

“Do you make any French foods?”

“Sure, all sorts of little pastries. You lot really know what you’re doing when it comes to sweets.” Harry said with a full smile finally cracking through on his lips.

“I wish I could try your interpretations,” Louis sighed. He couldn’t tear his gaze from Harry’s smile, his first real one of the night, and he leaned forward to poke at his cheek. “You have dimples…always loved those on handsome men.”

Once again, Harry was caught off guard by Louis’ forwardness. The smile was dropped, and Harry leaned back in his chair. “Th-thank you.”

It became quiet between them for a little while. Louis ordered them more to drink, and the rest of the bar started to wind down, most of the regular patrons went home for the nights, and a few of the soldiers left with some of the girls. There were only a couple left, and as the conversation between Louis and Harry picked up once more, Louis shifted himself closer to the soldier, until they were on the same side of the table, speaking so close they shared each other’s breath. There were less witnesses around to report on Harry, if any of them cared at all, so he didn’t stop Louis when his hands once again drifted to touch him.

But it was getting late, and the bartenders began their cleanup for the night. There really was no way of knowing just how late in the evening it was by the time Louis finally made his move, and asked that question that Harry was really dreading all night.

He leaned in close, just barely pressing his lips to Harry’s ear, and ever so sweetly asked, “Would you like to come home with me?”

Harry licked his lips. His eyes closed as his thoughts raced a mile a minute. He knew this was why Louis approached him, it was why the other girls were all over the other boys all night, why they all left together. And it was fine, really, if this was what Louis did, and what the other boys wanted out of their evening, but Harry…he just couldn’t. Louis was so beautiful, he’s too pretty for a boy, and he’d been so sweet all night, and even if that might have been an act, Harry wouldn’t want to ruin the fantasy. He wouldn’t want to use Louis, even if it was him who was offering.

“I—I’m sorry,” Harry sighed, once again recoiling away from the beautiful boy. “I-I just…I mean…god you’re so pretty Louis, and I’ve enjoyed this, I really have…but I don’t think I could pay you to, um, I wouldn’t want—”

“Pay me?” Louis asked, an amused smile on his face.

Harry’s eyes widened suddenly, mouth fishing open and closed. “Oh, fuck, wait…I thought you were—I mean the girls you were with—shit, I’m such a jerk—”

“Wait, Harry hold on,” Louis laughed. He stood up, taking Harry’s hand with him and giving his fingers light kisses. “You’re right of course, about my chosen career, but I wasn’t going to ask you to pay.”

“Y-you’re not?”

“I don’t only ask handsome men to come home with me just for their money,” Louis explained, tugging on Harry’s arm until he stood up as well, practically towering over Louis’ petite body. “Sometimes I ask just for me. So, will you come?”

All Harry could do was nod, and let himself be led out of the bar. The night was cold, and the stars were dimmed by clouds, but the walk was warm while they were arm in arm. Louis didn’t live too far, just a short block away, but they had to cut through an alleyway to not be seen. Harry was glad to stay quiet, his heart was beating too loud for him to hear anything anyway. He was almost shaking with the excitement.

Nothing happened immediately when they walked into Louis’ flat. It was dark, only street lamp lights coming in through the windows, but Harry could tell it was small and unassuming. Louis excused himself to change out of the tight slacks he’d been wearing, and Harry took the time to look around. The kitchen had some plates in the sink, and bowl of fruit on the table, a small glass jar sat on the counter, filled halfway with petite sugar cookies. Harry took his uniform jacket off, draping it over the back of a single dining chair, leaving himself only in the dark green tank top he had to wear underneath, his silver dog tags hanging over his chest.

A small sound, like a whine, came from behind him, and he turned to see Louis standing in the doorway of his bedroom, in nothing but his white shirt, unbuttoned all the way, and tight white underwear. Harry’s breath caught as his line of sight followed the hem of Louis’ shirt, trying to catch more of a glimpse of his pretty, smooth chest, tan skin Harry would very much like to kiss. Louis was staring at him as well, biting his pretty pink lips as he memorized the tone of Harry’s strong arms.

How did Harry even get here? This morning he was taking final shots at possibly German spies, and now he was in the apartment of a pretty French prostitute, miles away from home, world on the brink of war. That war didn’t reach into this flat, it didn’t exist in this moment, and as Harry crossed the room, laid his hands on Louis’ cheeks, he started to forget it was out there, far away, at all.

Their first kiss was biting, both sucking in breaths and grabbing each other tightly, like they’d been waiting years for it, when they’d only been in each other’s worlds for a few hours. Harry backed Louis against the wall with a slight thud, Louis moaned, and Harry rolled his hips into Louis’ body. Louis’ mouth opened, inviting Harry’s tongue, as his hands gripped onto Harry’s waist, pulling him in closer. He was so much smaller than Harry, not that much shorter, but smaller everywhere. Where Harry was bulked up, years of kneading dough and tossing giant bags of flour reflected on his muscles, Louis was thin and slender. He was delicate. Almost breakable. Harry wondered how many men actually realized this boy should be treated gently.

He shouldn’t have had that thought at all, because the sudden surge of jealousy caused him to break out of the kiss, sucking in a deep breath. Louis wasn’t his. Louis was his own person, and Louis chose this life. But in this moment Louis wanted Harry for nothing more than his own pleasure, so maybe he could be entitled to some jealousy over the other men. But they had to pay, so maybe they should be the jealous ones.

“Harry? Where’d you go just then?” Louis asked when Harry’s hands dropped to his sides. Louis clutched the sides of Harry’s face, forcing their eyes to make contact. “This is okay, right?”

“Yeah,” Harry said breathlessly. “You’re just…I don’t know. I don’t know what you want tonight. I don’t know what I can give you.”

Again, Louis smiled. He could see right through the nerves, and something about Harry’s phrasing gave him the reassurance that _tonight_ did not mean it would be the only night. They’re both trapped here in Dunkirk after all. He kissed Harry again, gently this time, as his left hand slipped down Harry’s chest, petting each hard muscle, until it stopped right at the top of Harry’s pants. He broke the kiss and covered Harry’s mouth with a finger from the right, which tugged his lip down as he dropped to his knees.

Harry’s eyes widened, catching Louis’ right hand and steadying himself against the closest wall. “W-what are you doing?”

“Trust me,” Louis whispered, kissing Harry’s stomach, as he undid the fly on his pants, and then nuzzled against Harry’s forming bulge. “You’ve never done this—or rather, nobody’s done this for you before?”

“I don’t think so,” Harry said, voice shaking. He wasn’t even sure what Louis was offering, but he knew he’d never been so turned on in his life.

“I’m sure you’d remember, unless they weren’t any good,” Louis quipped. He pulled Harry’s stiffening cock from his pants, which earned a gasp from Harry, and gave the head a lick. Not even completely hard, but Louis could tell Harry was wonderfully big, as he wrapped his small hand around the base.

Harry let go of Louis’ hand and moaned as his pretty lips wrapped around his cock, and Harry fell forward, catching himself against the wall. The movement caused his cock to slip into Louis’ warm mouth even more, and Louis took him in easily. Harry only had a moment to think about the fact that he had heard of this act, but never experienced it for himself, before Louis was hollowing his cheeks and sucking hard and wet.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Harry groaned, eyes closing tight and hands forming fists against the wall. He didn’t know what to do with himself except to just feel, as Louis bobbed his head, slowly at first, but pace picking up by the minute.

The strong breaths coming from Harry’s mouth, every deep and gravelly moan, spurred Louis on. He loved the feeling of Harry’s dick growing harder and harder in his mouth, and eventually he couldn’t stop his own moans of pleasure. He choked himself on Harry, taking him all the way to the back of his throat, until tears brimmed at the corners of his eyes. Louis was very aware of how good he’d become at this, so the fact that he could tell Harry was close to coming was no surprise. But Louis wanted this to last. He didn’t know if they’d ever cross paths again, and there was a strange comfort in this handsome soldier.

So Louis pulled away, letting Harry’s cock release from his mouth with a pop, kissing the head for just a moment, before standing up to kiss Harry’s lips again. He pushed him so his back was against the wall instead, and watched every movement on Harry’s face, the way his eyes were crinkled shut and his mouth was dropped open in a constant pant. Louis hadn’t stopped the movement of his hand, slowly jerking Harry’s cock, and he bit his own lip as he admired his work.

The sexy soldier was falling apart his in hands, and Louis loved to watch. He wanted more though, he wanted to invite Harry into his bed, to feel his big cock inside him, but he just felt that wouldn’t happen tonight, if ever at all. So Louis would give Harry a memory, something to remember on cold nights, something that might make him want to seek Louis’ company again.

Louis kissed Harry’s neck, nosing up the skin until he could nibble on his ear. He whispered ever so softly, “Would you like to finish in my mouth?”

Harry’s eyes opened wide, and he coughed out his nerves, cock twitching in Louis’ hand. “ _Fuck_ , I-I…yeah, _yes_ …please.”

Louis smiled, and quickly dropped back to his knees, taking Harry back into his mouth, eyes fixed on Harry’s face. Harry groaned when he looked down, Louis’ mouth halfway down his dick, cheeks sharped as he sucked, and licked, and moaned, the vibrations sending even more pleasure running up Harry’s spine. This time, Harry felt ready for it, felt a semblance of control with it, and gently grabbed onto Louis’ hair, pushing him down all the way on Harry’s cock.

Louis snuck a hand between his own legs, palming at his own leaking cock. He thought he might finish before Harry even did, rolling his hips and grinding into his palm. They moaned together, Harry moving his own body to meet Louis’ rhythm, both lost in the moment.

There was nothing in the world but this, not a single trouble to be found.

When Harry’s moans started to pick up and grow rougher, when his small thrusts into Louis’ mouth started to stutter, Louis took him in all the way, throat contracting with a moan, and Harry lost all control. He grunted out Louis’ name, and several swears, pushing Louis down until nose was flush to his chest, and he came down Louis’ throat.

“Holy shit, _Louis_ ,” Harry moaned, letting go of Louis’ hair, and slumping breathless back against the wall, head falling back with a thud.

The last few drops of his spunk landed on Louis’ tongue and cheek as he pulled off, and Louis darted his tongue out to lick it all up. He let out his own whine of pleasure, hand wrapped around his cock and pumping until he came in his briefs. He sat back on his ankles, chest heaving as he stared up at Harry, satisfied smile settling on his pretty face. Louis’ voice was shot when he said, “You taste wonderful.”

“ _Jesus Christ_ ,” Harry said with a breathless laugh. Never. Nothing. He had not a single experience to compare that too. He glanced back down at Louis, admiring how flushed and pink his face had become, heart skipping when he saw the tracks of tears. “Y-you’re… _shit_ , that was…I don’t even—”

“ _Shh_.” Louis clawed at Harry’s chest to pull himself up, and immediately melted into Harry’s encompassing arms, throwing his own around Harry’s neck, hands tussling up his short hair. They kissed once more, and Harry moaned at the taste of himself on Louis’ tongue.

“Do you want me to—”

Louis placed a finger over Harry’s lips, giggling, “No, I already came.”

“You—” Harry started, but Louis pulled one of his hands down between his legs, and Harry felt the wet spot on the front of the white fabric. “Fuck that’s…that’s sexy. I-I need to see you again.”

And then Louis’ eyes widened with surprise. He’d had the hope since the moment their lips met for the first time, since Harry agreed to come home with him really, but he didn’t think the promise of meeting again would really come up. “Can you? Even with all your duties?”

“Well, I…it wouldn’t be easy, I suppose,” Harry said softly. He thought about the first week again, the gunfire and the death. He thought about the difficult job they would have in Dunkirk, keeping control of every passing unit, keeping Germans and their allies away at all borders, and he knew free time would be few and far between. But if he was stuck here, on the brink of war, there was nothing he’d rather do than sneak away those short hours with this pretty French boy. “I don’t even know if I could, but if I could get away…I mean, I’m sure you’d rather take others who could actually pay—”

“I don’t want you to pay,” Louis assured him. There was a strain in his voice, and reflected in his eyes, as though there was an escape he was craving from the world too. “I told you, sometimes it’s just for me.”

Their night ended with a last kiss, and promise of more, hopefully sooner rather than later. They couldn’t make a guaranteed arrangement, Harry’s duties were too unpredictable, but he knew he wouldn’t let anything stop him from seeking the pretty boy again by the end of the coming week. He needed more of Louis, he wanted another night of forgetting why he was here in France, what state the world was in. It might only get worse, after all.


	2. WEEK TWO

It would be another full week until Harry saw Louis again.

As the Germans started to make a better advance into the countryside, more of the British men were sent to stop them, and it became apparent that Harry’s unit wouldn’t be just hanging around the coastal city. They were assigned to travel to a midpoint in the French forest and accompany rations to the citizens of Dunkirk. But with each day of hiding and fearing an ambush, Harry’s thoughts were consumed only with the beautiful boy he’d spent mere hours with.

Each time he got an hour, maybe two, of sleep, his dreams were of Louis. His mind created images of him on his knees again, or kissing Harry’s chest, or folded under him while Harry was deep inside, feeling the kind of pleasure he hadn’t felt in so long. The other men had noticed a change in Harry, where he’d been grumpy and distant from the start, he started to walk around with a misty look in his eyes, still focused on the task, but not all together there.

The separating from the other men was fine, until their caravan drove into the center of the market, and various Dunkirk citizens lined up to pick up their food for the next couple weeks, and Harry was forced to interact with the others more.

Halfway through the day, with the sun beating down on them, the other soldiers were making their jokes and playing with the children and elderly, when a soft voice spoke from behind, “If I pay you, could I have some extra?”

Harry’s head whipped around with a start, and a jolt passed through his body, starting down low in his gut. There Louis was, paying no mind to the man who told him, “No, sorry, not how it works mate.”

It took everything in Harry’s being not to reach out, to push everyone out of the way and enter Louis’ space so he could get just one half a moment’s worth of his touch again. Instead, Harry just stared, raking in the image of Louis in the daylight, skin much tanner than he remembered, with a basket of rations and flowers hanging in his arms, and a smile directed only for him. Louis didn’t even bother to look at the other man when he responded, attention and purpose only there for Harry.

“Of course, worth the try,” Louis said, faking his broken English, while his eyes darted to the dark alleyway down the street a bit. “Thank you boys, for all you do.”

“Yeah, sure, you’re welcome pretty boy,” The other soldier laughed, and Harry had to bite his own tongue, but he got the message.

He watched as Louis made his way to the alley and turned back one more time to make sure Harry would follow. He was dressed so different from the other night, only in tight, feminine pants, a white undershirt, with his shoulders covered by a silk shawl. He didn’t even have shoes on, and sand covered his feet. Harry had never seen a boy in that sort of dress, and it almost made Louis look like a girl out on a day at the beach. Not that Harry minded that at all.

As soon as Louis disappeared, Harry passed one more basket of rations to an older couple, and then excused himself for just a moment, “Gotta take a leak.”

“Whatever mate.”

He tried not to hurry to the alley and made sure nobody was watching him while he entered the darkness. Louis stood down a ways, against the wall in the only section dripped in sunlight, which almost made it seemed like he glowed right from the heavens. “ _Bon jour_ , Harry.”

“Louis,” Harry said, letting it out in an airy breath. He cornered Louis, backing him into the darkness in case anyone should walk by. He brought a hand to Louis’ cheek. “I’ve missed…you look…” his words stopped short, the cloud he’d walked through lifted the moment he saw the reddish bruises on Louis’ neck, which his hand slipped down to touch.

Louis gave him a sad smile, pulling his shawl over the marks. “I was with a friend today. A paying friend.”

“I see,” Harry said. He couldn’t possibly be allowed to jealous, once again he knew that.

“You still don’t have to pay,” Louis reminded him, fingers reaching to pull Harry’s hand away, clasping their hands at his side.

Harry’s features softened. “I…I know, I just missed you. I haven’t stopped thinking about you since we, um, you know.”

“Since I sucked your cock.” Louis said with a direct, but playful tone.

Harry cleared his throat, hips jolting almost out of instinct. “Y-yeah.”

“I’m glad you liked it,” Louis said, stepping closer so he could whisper in Harry’s ear. “I can do it again, if you’d like.”

Eyes shutting and throat rumbling with a moan, Harry bent down to nuzzle at Louis’ neck. “I would, I really would. I dreamed about it. I dreamed about more, but I don’t know how to ask. I don’t know what you want.”

“I want you to visit me again, and we can fall into whatever we feel,” Louis whispered, placing a kiss behind Harry’s ear before falling back against the wall again. “I must confess, I knew you wanted to visit again, but I was very much hoping it would be today, because I sort of already got some extra rations.”

“You stole them?”

“No, silly,” Louis laughed. “My _friend_ got them for me. I was hoping you could bake me something, if you can sneak away?”

“It wouldn’t be easy, but…” _but I’m desperate to feel you again_ , “but I think I can. If you’re, um, seeing any other friends today—”

“No,” Louis cut off, tightening his hold on Harry’s hand. “Nobody else today, or tomorrow.”

“I wouldn’t be able to get away until after dark,” Harry said, heartbeat gaining speed.

“I will wait up,” Louis said. “I’ll light some candles, maybe get my hands on some wine. We can pretend it’s a normal night.”

“I’d love that, I need that,” Harry grunted. He pushed himself into Louis’ space once again, planting a soft kiss on his cheek. “I have to go.”

“Go, Harry,” Louis sighed. “Go be England’s, tonight you are all mine. Do you remember the way?”

“Yes,” Harry won’t admit to dreaming of running through the streets back to Louis’ tiny flat, but he memorized the path the night he left, and his mind won’t soon let him forget.

Just as Harry turned to leave the warmth of Louis and the secrecy of the alley, he felt a small hand grab at his collar. He was pulled into a desperate kiss, all the breath lost from his lungs, lost for just another small moment in a different world. They both pulled away reluctantly, resting their foreheads together as they said their goodbyes, and Harry kept his gaze firmly on Louis as the boy drifted and disappeared down the alley. Harry got himself together, let the smile drop from his face, so he could once again go back to his duty, and hide the little escape he had found.

+

The sun was down for an hour by the time Harry was able to sneak away from the soldier’s quarters, which were just emptied out boathouses, filled to the brim with barracks and weapons, where quiet was the only word that couldn’t be said. A group had gotten together to go to town again, and Harry didn’t know the name of a single one, didn’t plan on learning as well. He tagged along behind a younger man, a boy really, with brown hair, hazel eyes, and hundreds of freckles smattered over his sun-pinked skin. He looked so young, and yet Harry knew he couldn’t be that much younger than himself. He had sharp features, sort of like Louis’ but no nearly as pixie like. Harry wondered, as they all made their way to town without any exchanged words, if this boy even understood what was happening around them, the urgency and danger of it all.

He didn’t ponder it too long, those sorts of thoughts could come to him with every younger man, every teenager, that had been forced into this fight. Instead, Harry emptied his mind, and followed the others all the way to a pub, and slipped away into the darkness before any of them could notice he’d gone. It was just a little farther away than the night he’d met Louis, but the streets were the same, and as Harry stripped himself of his uniform jacket, and pulled out a cigarette to light between his teeth, nobody paid him any mind. When he got to the building of the flat, the moon was high in the sky and shining down on him, the smoke from his cigarette blew towards the building, and he followed the path from the moonlight, gaze landing at Louis’ balcony.

He knew it was Louis’ balcony, because the boy was standing out there, a glass of wine in one hand, dressed in nothing but that white undershirt, paired this time only with very tiny black shorts, and what appeared to be a silk robe. He’d been waiting out there, watching that same moon and twinkling stars, and he gave Harry a wave when their eyes met.

Harry practically ran up to the flat and was greeted at Louis’ door with a tipsy smile. Louis took his jacket and hung it on the same chair that sat at his dining table, then took Harry by the hand to the kitchen. He poured Harry a glass of the wine and handed him the basket of extra rations.

“So, soldier boy, what will you be making me tonight?” Louis asked excitedly, propping himself up on the counter. “You said you could make French sweets, I’d love for you to prove it.”

Harry chuckled and searched through the basket. “Hmm, I could make some cinnamon crepes, if you’d like. I don’t want to use too much of this.”

“ _Délicieux_ , better than I could make myself.” Louis leaned to his side and started to turn up his little radio. “Do you mind if I play something while you bake?”

“Not at all, just…” Harry started, freezing up for a moment. “Just not the news, yeah? Find some music.”

“Of course,” Louis said with a sympathetic smile. Of course Harry wouldn’t want to listen to any news, even if he didn’t speak the language, he knew it would be about his living reality.

They fall into a comfortable pattern, with Louis drinking and singing along to the music with a sweet, reedy voice, while Harry baked, occasionally humming along. Louis had a truly beautiful voice, and Harry made it a point to tell him several times. Louis listened to a few stories Harry had about his life as a baker, and the quirky people from his village who would stop by. Louis himself wasn’t very close to many people here in Dunkirk, so hearing stories of such a small, tight-knit town filled his heart with desire. He would give anything for that kind of connection, to be so known and trusted by an entire town that you could know their entire life stories like Harry did.

It wasn’t long until they were able to move to the small table in the room, and Louis could try something of Harry’s for the very first time. With his first bite, Louis let out an almost erotic moan, which Harry would be embarrassed to admit made his blood hot.

“This is… _immaculé,_ just perfect, Harry,” Louis moaned again before digging in.

“Thank you, I’m glad a real French boy approves,” Harry said, taking a small bite to hide his proud smile. He would rather just watch the faces Louis was making as he ate, and honestly would rather see that kind of ecstasy in another context.

Breaking away from his somewhat creepy staring for a while, Harry took the time to actually look around the flat. It seemed bigger with the lights on, but still mostly plain. It was clearly lived in, but with no discernable personality, like Louis wasn’t interested in leaving his mark there. It was just a shelter, a place for someone by themselves, and not really a home.

But it was warm, and something about the candle lights flickering, and something about sitting this close to Louis, their feet touching under the table, enjoying food and wine, on a moon filled night. If Harry didn’t think too hard, he could forget what would happen in a while when he had to walk out the door. He could forget that he wouldn’t be sleeping in the bedroom they didn’t even make it to last time, and he wouldn’t be waking with the most beautiful boy he’d ever met in his arms. Those weren’t facts in here, out there didn’t exist, because for just a little while it didn’t need to.

They finished eating at about the same time, and abandoned their dishes on the table in favor of a dance. The slow, dreamy music echoed through the flat, and Harry pulled Louis into his arms so they could sway to it. The movements happened so hazily, like they could read each other’s minds and just had to dance, like a trance was put over them. Harry was happy to do anything to touch Louis, to cradle him in his arms, and kiss his cheek, and keep forgetting out there.

“Can I ask you something?” Louis’ wispy voice asked.

“Anything.”

But instead of asking, Louis smiled and stood on his toes, drawing Harry into a kiss, which deepened quickly. They stopped their dancing in favor of licking not each other’s mouths, both moaning and grabbing at any part of each other that they could, but still slow and soft. It was a savoring kind of moment. Louis’ arms went around Harry’s neck, his hands twisting up into his hair, which was too short to really tug, while Harry’s hands locked onto Louis’ hips with a tight grip. He lifted just slightly, wrapping his arms around Louis’ waist so he could lift him a few inches off the ground.

Louis squeaked at the movement, and pulled away from the kiss, face pink and body heated, as he placed a finger over Harry’s lips. “Harry, I need to ask you something.”

“Sure,” Harry said, a lot less sure of himself this time, from Louis’ somewhat stern tone.

Louis kissed at Harry’s cheek, scratching his nail over Harry’s bottom lip. “You said you wanted me again, you wanted me to suck you off again.”

“ _Mmm, yes_ ,” Harry groaned, eyes falling shut, and cock twitching up at the thought.

Ever so quietly, and after a slight pause, Louis asked, “But what if I wanted more?”

Harry’s eyes opened wide, hips jerking up in response. “Really?”

“You’re not the only one who has naughty dreams. I thought of you when—” _when I was with my friend today, and yesterday, and the days before, but none of them are you, they cannot hold a candle to what I want from you._ Louis could think that, but he wouldn’t dare say it. “I want you to fuck me, Harry. I mean, you have done—”

“Yes! Yes, that I’ve done,” Harry blurted out.

Louis giggled, reaching his hand down to Harry’s pants, desperation entering his movements. He pulled apart the buttons, and slipped his little hand inside, rubbing against Harry’s hardening cock. “Just making sure.”

Harry choked on his moan as he let himself feel every movement of Louis’ hand for a minute, then pulled him back in a biting kiss. This time, Harry made sure he was the one with more control, backing Louis into his bedroom door, and licking into his mouth. He braced one of his hands onto the wood of the door, and managed to turn the knob just as their kiss broke apart for air. He buried his face in Louis’ neck with another moan, when Louis’ hand wrapped around his cock and started stroking, time speeding up around them.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking beautiful,” Harry groaned, grabbing Louis’ wrist to stop his movements for a second so he could safely get them actually in the bedroom. “So goddamn sexy.”

Louis let out a pleased hum, tugging Harry’s shirt up with his free hand. “We didn’t even make it in here last time.”

“Never had someone’s mouth on me before, shocked I lasted as long as I did,” Harry grunted, taking the rest of the shirt off himself. He pulled Louis’ off as well and backed them onto Louis’ bed with another kiss. This was what he knew, what he was good at. Getting a fit boy into bed and using his hands and his fingers to pleasure him, open him and ready him for a good fuck. He had a feeling this would be more than just a good fuck though, and if last time was anything to go by, he was sure Louis could bring even more new and exciting sexual experiences out.

Right now, however, all Harry wanted was to get between Louis’ legs and fuck him just like he’d dreamed.

He kissed his way down Louis’ tiny body, stopping to suck at one of his nipples, which earned him a desperate whine from Louis. He looked up as he kept making his way down, pulling Louis’s shorts as he went, freeing the prettiest cock he’d ever seen. It was pink and curving hard up to Louis’ tummy, and Harry couldn’t help but give it a little kiss. He spread Louis’ legs and kissed all around the inside of his thighs, making Louis gasp and mewl out little noises, falling apart from every touch. Louis’s arm reached out to his bedside table, shuffling around until he found a small bottle of oil, which he quickly tossed down to Harry.

As Harry slicked up his fingers, Louis sat up on his elbows, a flustered smile plastered on his face. “Have you fucked many pretty boys back in England, then?”

“A few,” Harry said with a smirk.

“And did they come back for more? Or do you use and lose them?” Louis purred.

“I’m a perfect gentleman,” Harry said, as he pressed the first finger inside. A smile overtook his face as Louis let out a soft moan and fell back onto the bed once again. He worked his finger in and out, opening Louis slowly, purposefully, as Louis fell apart, soft mewls leaving his lips, and body rocking. “You’re so beautiful like this, Louis.”

Harry worked a second finger inside, kissing all around Louis’ stomach as he went. A third finger entered not long after at Louis’ urging, and Harry was amazed at how easily Louis’ body adjusted for him. He started stroking his own hard cock,

“Harry, come on, you can put it in, you can fuck me, please,” Louis started to beg with a weak voice. He spread his legs even more, inviting Harry in.

Once again stunned at just how forward Louis could be, Harry clumsily repositioned himself, so he could finally push his cock inside. The tight heat was almost overwhelming for Harry, and he had to really concentrate to not come. What he really noticed was how much they fit together like perfect puzzle pieces, like Louis’ body was made for him.

Harry stayed still for a little while, until Louis started making little noises and wiggling his hips, silently asking for some relief. Slowly, Harry started to rock his hips, building up a pace until he pulled his cock out almost all the way, only to slam back in. Louis let out a guttural moan, and Harry started grunting as he repeated this action over and over, until Louis was so worked up that he couldn’t even beg for more.

“You feel so good Lou,” Harry groaned, quickening his pace so he could really just start fucking Louis for real. He hissed when Louis scratched his surprisingly sharp nails down his back.

The whimpers and mewls that escaped Louis’ mouth were so sweet and so broken, Harry wanted nothing more than to bottle them up and listen forever, sure he would never hear anything more heavenly.

“H-Harry, _Oh mon dieu_ , oh fuck me harder,” Louis begged, rolling his hips down onto Harry’s dick.

And Harry was ready to give this beautiful boy literally anything he wanted. He lay so his body completely enveloped Louis’ own tiny body, and he sucked and kissed over Louis’ neck, wanting to leave some sort of marks for anyone to see. Everyone would know that Harry had been here first, and Harry did Louis better.

The movement of Harry’s hips grew erratic and uncontrolled, and he swore with every thrust, the old bed creaking below them. Louis continued to whimper and whine out Harry’s name, between breathless gasps for air. He reached between them and started to jerk off his cock, but Harry slapped his hand away, and did the job for him. He didn’t get to make Louis come last time, and he was more than happy to do all of the work for that.

Louis’ eyes opened wide suddenly, and with a slight yelp of Harry’s name, he came in Harry’s hand, coming landing on both their stomachs and Harry’s fingers.

Harry sat up and started fucking into Louis with abandon, urged on by the overstimulated cries that Louis released, until finally he was moaning out loud and coming inside him. Harry fucked his way through his orgasm, hips finally spasming when he was fully released, “Shit, shit, _Louis!”_

It took a minute for the pounding of his heart to at least leave his own ears, so Harry could pull out, and do a weak job of cleaning Louis off. They shared another deep kiss, before Harry rolled off Louis’ body and onto his back, dopey smile on his face.

“Do you have a smoke?” Harry asked breathlessly, kissing the top of Louis’ head. “I can’t stay for much longer, but we still have time.”

“ _Bien sûr_ ,” Louis replied, voice shot and raspy. He reached into the table on his bedside and tossed a cigarette and lighter back to Harry. He rolled over onto his back as Harry lit the cigarette, resting his cheek on the soldier’s strong chest. He could hear the still slowing beat of Harry’s heart, the rhythm almost lulling him to sleep. “It’s too bad you can’t stay, I’d love you to make me breakfast.”

Harry let out a soft laugh, taking a drag of the cigarette before offering it to Louis, who merely opened his mouth and let Harry place the bud between his lips. “Maybe one day I will.”

“You’ll have to come back to me, if you can sneak away again.”

“I promise I’ll try to,” Harry whispered.

Louis handed the cigarette back, and shuffled up so he could kiss Harry’s cheek and then his neck. “You’re a wonderful lover.”

A shake came over Harry’s body, the smoothness of Louis’ voice reverberating in his ear. He made a mental note to remember the sensation. He blew out a cloud of smoke towards the window, getting a glimpse of the moon as he hummed, “You’re an angel.”

Louis smiled as he snatched the cigarette from Harry once again. “Are you going to make me wait so long to have you again?”

Harry sighed, wrapping an arm around Louis’ shoulder and pulling him in close. “You know I don’t have control over that. I’d be here every night if I could, gonna be thinking about you every time I’m out there now. Don’t know how I’ll be able to focus.”

“Don’t be too distracted, wouldn’t anything to happen to my Soldier Boy—” Louis started, then realized how his words may have sounded, the darkness they implied. “I-I didn’t mean—”

“It’s okay,” Harry interrupted quickly. “Let’s just…can we just lay here for a bit?”

Louis nodded and settled back on Harry’s chest, dumping the cigarette onto a dish on the table. Harry started rubbing his thumb over Louis’ cheek, and he sniffed his hair, the smell of sea salt from the air filling his senses. It was perfect here. He could almost feel himself melting into the sheets, which he didn’t want to leave. If the world was fair, Harry would be able to just live in this bed with Louis, fall asleep for a few hours and then wake up for another round, then sleep again to wake up refreshed and worry free. The world was hardly fair.

“I’ll try to come back tomorrow, but I can’t guarantee—”

“It’s okay,” Louis said, placing a finger over Harry’s lips. “I’ll wait out there again.”

“I don’t want to get in the way of you and your, um, work.”

With a hint of sadness in his eyes, Louis gave Harry a tired smile. “I don’t want you to worry about that. I’ll wait for you every night, if I must.”

Harry wanted to protest, and to ask why Louis was willing to just wait around for him, why Louis chose him at all, but he’s not about to question a good thing. This arrangement, however loose it may be, is something none of the other boys have while they waste away out here, waiting to just be sent home.


	3. WEEK THREE

The Germans had pushed through the southern borders. That was the news that had woken Harry up the morning after his beautiful, blissful night with Louis. He’d snuck back to the barracks before anyone knew he was gone from his original group, and got one of the best nights of sleep he could have possibly gotten, but then woke up to alarms and breaking news. The Germans had taken the low countries, and were coming for the rest of France through Luxembourg and Italy.

For the time being, Harry’s unit was to stay in Dunkirk, as the Channel borders were safe for the moment, thanks to their northern position, but it meant that the war would not be short like the British had hoped for.

It also meant that Harry’s days all started even busier than before. He’d been put on patrol duty, which meant early mornings, and long days under the hot sun, making sure rations were kept safe for the town and the soldiers. His nights, however, were free. And he spent most tucked away in the secret, peaceful pocket of Louis’ flat.

“Fuck, fuck, _god baby_ , that’s it,” Harry grunted, hands firmly planted on Louis’ hips, while he bounced and rocked on Harry’s cock.

Louis’ hands pressed onto Harry’s chest, fingertips digging crescents into the skin, head thrown back in ecstasy as he let out cries of pleasure. He kept repeating Harry’s name, over and over, between swears and mewls, the most beautiful sounds Harry had ever heard.

They’d seen each other almost every night, only missed one in a week and it was the day of the news break. Harry needed to be there, wrapped up in Louis, exchanging pleasure, and imagining a brighter world, and world where they could just do this, be with each other without the threat of danger at the door. It was the only thing getting him through his days, where he felt like just another body in more powerful men’s problems, here he could be used the only way he’d ever want to be. And Louis really was like some heavenly creature, created by every possible god from every possibly spiritual book, tailor made for Harry. Out there in the war and in the real world, Harry felt cold and angry, but in Louis’ arms everything bad just slipped away.

On this night, Harry had barely gotten through the door when Louis was on him, ripping clothes apart and dragging him to the bedroom. He’d mumbled something about being ready, and then stroked Harry’s cock until he could just slide right on, tight but open, and had been riding him for only a little while now. On Harry’s part, he’d felt like he was swept up in a whirlwind, and went with Louis’ every whim, not a single question passing through his mind.

He thrust up into Louis, hitting right at that spot that had Louis practically screaming. Louis just barely got a hand over his mouth, and looked down at Harry with teary eyes, begging him silently to do that again. “ _Please, Haz_.”

Of course Harry complied, planting his feet so he could thrust up into Louis’ awaiting heat, hitting him there over and over again, until, suddenly—

“Fuck, fuck, I-I’m gonna, _oh god Harry_ ,” Louis cried out, as he came suddenly, cock spurting over Harry’s stomach, completely untouched.

The act threw Harry off so much, mind completely stunned, that he didn’t even object when Louis stopped his movements, and pulled himself off Harry’s still hard dick, only to slump on the bed next to him. He cuddled up to Harry’s side and wiped his eyes, biting his lip with a guilty expression.

“Louis…I can’t believe you—”

“ _Je suis désolé_ ,” Louis whined. “Harry, _I’m sorry_ , I shouldn’t have…I shouldn’t have done that.”

Confused and concerned, Harry sat up and placed a gentle hand on Louis’ cheek. “What part, Lou? Is everything okay?”

“No, yes, but… _fuck_ ,” Louis rubbed over his eyes, pushing down tears. They haven’t talked about this so much. It was like an unspoken rule that Harry was special and he was above everything Louis did for a living, he was separate from it all, but Louis had slipped up and let his impulses get the best of him. “Harry, I was with someone…one of my _friends_ , not long before you came over. He had to leave early and I, well, you see I’ve started to think of you when I’m with them.”

“Oh-okay,” Harry said, unsure how to continue. There was a slight sting in his heart, caught somewhere between jealousy of Louis with those other men, and pride in the fact that he was the only one on Louis’ mind. “Lou, I’m probably going to regret this, and fuck I probably shouldn’t even be asking…we haven’t talked about any of this but, um, what did he, um, what did you two do? Did he hurt you?”

“No, nothing like that, he’s a good man,” Louis insisted. “He has this fantasy of me, of any partner I suppose, but with me he can pay for whatever he wants. And we’d started it today, but then he had to leave, and I knew I was going to see you so I just thought of you, and he was the one who’d… _Oh mon Dieu_. I don’t know what I’m trying to say, I just feel as though I’ve used you.”

“Lou, I don’t understand,” Harry said. He did his best to comfort Louis, rubbing a tear away with his thumb. “Please, whatever bad thing you think is going to happen, I promise it won’t, just tell me why you’re feeling so guilty.”

“The problem is…his fantasy is something that I like too, I like when he treats me that way, but I can’t stop thinking about you, and I was so turned on when he left, that when you came here…I feel as though I used you to finish what I started with him,” Louis finally managed to get out. His heart was beating so loud he could barely hear the confession himself.

It was quiet for a moment, while Harry got his thoughts together. Honestly he didn’t feel very used at all, because this was why he was here, he was with Louis to fuck and find relief, and to connect with an actual human being. But unfortunately, now that this can had been opened, Harry just couldn’t let it go. “Lou, what is the fantasy? What does he make you do?”

With wide, unsure eyes, Louis said, “Well, um, it started with this story he told me when we first met, about a, um, a princess. He said she disguised herself as a prince so people wouldn’t take advantage of her, but only her secret lover knew her true self. It was a very sweet story, and when we got in bed for the first time he…well he wanted me to be her. He kept telling me I was so pretty like a girl, and he would call me princess and then he started dressing me up, using feminine words and I…I don’t know, I started to like it for myself. When I pictured you treating me like he does it just…it turned me on.”

After another moment’s silence, Harry whispered, “You want me to call you princess?”

“Harry, you don’t—”

“Lou, can I call you Princess?” Harry asked, tugging Louis into a deep kiss. He was breathless as he crawled over Louis’ body, between his legs. He rolled his hips onto Louis’ body, showing him that he was very much still hard as a rock, still waiting for his own peak of pleasure. Call Harry crazy, but the thought of Louis acting like a sweet princess, a pretty little thing to worship and adore, had his blood pumping fast. It was new and it was strange, but he could give that to Louis, and he would do it better than some sucker who had to pay for the honor. “Were you still dressed up before I got here?”

“Y-yes,” Louis whined, almost stunned at how easily Harry took it. He was completely relieved.

“Would you like to show me, Baby?” Harry mumbled softly. “I really want to see.”

Louis nodded, eyes still wide, as he slipped off the bed and made his way to the bathroom. Once inside, he carefully closed the door and eyed the pile of silk and lace on the ground, left from when he tore it off as soon as he got home. A shudder ran up his spine as he slowly picked up the items, running the soft fabric through his fingers. Harry was going to see him like this, he _wanted_ to see him like this, with no shame and no deals. No pretending that Louis didn’t absolutely love that sort of treatment.

It was a few moments of waiting on the bed, during which Harry kept a lazy hand on his cock, as he stared at the door in anticipation. They didn’t do things like this back in his village. They didn’t explore, the fact that Harry would find other men to fuck was a miracle within itself, so there was no room for experiments. Sex was always good, but it was simple, and it was never unguarded, never really intimate either. He’d had a few boys in his actual bed before, but had never truly wanted them, never wanted to completely consume them and their every eccentricity. He’d never been with someone he was so drawn to like a magnet, who he just wanted to possess and destroy and protect all at the same time.

When Louis finally emerged, covering himself with a floral-patterned silk robe, his face still glistening and pink, eyes trained directly to the ground, but there was dark mascara now covering his already long eyelashes, and Harry’s heart nearly stopped. Covering Louis’ feet, all the way up to his mid-thigh, were a pair of white stockings, complete with baby blue bows at the very top. Connected to those on his upper thigh, just barely peeking out from under the hem of the robe, was a matching blue silk garter belt, which hugged his hips tightly. As his eyes moved upward Louis began to let the robe fall away, which revealed a white lace bralette, loosely fitted over his flat chest.

He looked like one of the girls in those pictures the other men would carry around, like a pin-up calendar girl, and Harry didn’t know what to say. He sat up, the hand on his cock stilled for the moment, as he just took in the sight. Louis looked almost shy, as though he thought Harry wouldn’t like this. How could anyone not love this sight, though. Harry tried not to think of the man who made Louis dress like this, because the jealousy of it all might drive him mad, but damn if he wasn’t a completely perverted genius.

“Come here,” Harry managed to cough out. He positioned himself on the side of the bed, and held out his hand, beckoning Louis so he could have his way with him. Louis took his hand and stood in front, unsure of where to go from here, but Harry took charge and yanked the pretty boy onto his lap, steadying him with a hand to the back. “Louis you look…I mean…holy shit.”

“You like it, I take it?” Louis asked shyly.

“I fucking love it,” Harry confessed, running his hands up and down Louis’ waist. “You’re so sexy, Baby.”

Louis shifted uncomfortably, a tremble in his voice as he asked, “Even though, this was meant for someone else?”

There was something raw and terrified in the question, because the wall they had put between what Louis did for a living and who they were when they were hidden away together, was being torn down. What would Louis do if the jealousy got to Harry, and he couldn’t handle having to share?

But none of that mattered to Harry. It was a different plane of being while he was here in France, where everything felt both too real and also not real at all, the war he had to fight in was visceral, and in Louis’ bedroom it was hazy and misty, all at the same time. Who they were outside meant nothing, all that mattered was that Harry was holding literally the sweetest, almost fairy like, creature he’d ever beheld, and he wanted to savor him in every way possible.

“Fuck him, this is for me,” Harry declared. “When it’s just us, you exist for me only, and I exist for you only, and we do not have to think about anything else.”

Wetness started to form in Louis’ eyes, and in a moment, for a moment, he didn’t feel like he was drifting through his life, not all there. He placed his hands on Harry’s cheeks, and kissed him passionately, rocking their bodies together. They both moaned into the kiss, and it wasn’t long before Harry was switching their positions, moving Louis onto his back in the middle of the bed.

“You’re all mine, _Princess_ ,” Harry whispered into the already bruised skin of Louis’ neck. He pulled apart the straps of the garter from Louis’ right leg, and yanked it up by the back of his thigh, practically folding Louis in half. He needed to be inside him again, he just had to fuck this pretty boy again. “Not sure how long I’ll last this time.”

“That’s okay, just fuck me,” Louis whined, scratching his fingers down Harry’s shoulders.

Harry entered Louis’ heat again, slowly this time, letting them both feel every inch. He sat up and kissed Louis’ ankle, fucking in and out carefully, looking down into Louis’ darkened eyes. “You feel good now, baby? That feels better, right? Baby girl?”

Louis’ mouth dropped open in a cry, and his arms went up above his head, clutching tightly onto the pillow, “Y-yes, feels so good.”

“Yeah? That’s all my little princess needed, a big cock inside her,” Harry grunted, starting to speed up the movement of his hips. He couldn’t believe the filth coming out of his mouth, but the way Louis fell apart was reward enough.

“Just yours, only want _you,_ ” Louis whimpered, eyes closing shut as Harry started to really work his dick in and out, fucking him harder with each passing moment. The sound of skin slapping together, pace gaining speed, filled the room between their own moans.

Harry finally let Louis’ leg fall away, as he leaned back down and fucked into him with purpose, “That’s sweet girl, you feel so fucking good, look so goddamned pretty for me”

Louis’ hand flew back to around Harry’s neck, as he let out swear after swear, going between English and French, unable to keep his head straight. “So, _fucking good_ , Harry.”

And Harry grew determined. He’d put off his own orgasm for long enough, but he wanted nothing more than to make Louis come first. He yanked the bralette aside, and bent down to bite at Louis’ nipples, sucking them and earning a scream from Louis. “That’s right princess, let it all out.”

Louis was pretty much sobbing, little cock hard and red once again between their bodies, but he was pretty sure he wouldn’t be able to come untouched this time. “H-Harry, please touch me.”

“Not yet, Princess, I’m not ready to fill your pretty pussy yet,” Harry grunted, yanking Louis’ head back harshly by his hair, opening up Louis’ neck for him to bite.

Louis’ cock started to leak, little beads of come dripping out, but relief still not completely reached. He could feel tears slip down his cheeks, and he was sure he looked like the prettiest little mess. He absolutely loved it. He loved being a pretty girl for Harry to wreck.

Neither are sure how much time had passed between the constant hard fucking of Harry’s hips, but Louis could stay like this for hours if Harry wanted to. He openly sobbed as Harry continued to whisper filthy, beautiful things into Louis’ ear.

The sound of Louis’s growing, “ _Ah, ah, ah, oh fuck, oh fuck,_ _baise moi_ ,” rang out in the room and spurred Harry on. It wasn’t until Louis started to actually beg that Harry wanted to finally give in. “ _Please_ , please make me come, I wanna feel you come in me, _Hazza please_.”

“Shit,” Harry wrapped his hand around Louis’ leaking cock and started pumping, getting what he finally wanted as Louis came for the second time that night, squirting over his tummy and Harry’s hand, crying out Harry’s name over and over. Harry couldn’t last much longer, and with just a few more thrusts, he was pulling out and coming over Louis’ stomach as well, “Fuck, that’s it, that’s for my good girl, _god damn_.”

Harry wiped away the mascara stained tear tracks running down Louis’ cheeks, kissing him all over his face as Louis sobbed, overcome by what he just experienced. Harry just kept softly repeating, “It’s okay, Baby, you’re amazing, Lou, I’m here,” until Louis’ racing heart and breath slowed to a steady, and his body went slack. The warmth of Harry disappeared for a few minutes, as he cleaned himself up in the washroom, but was back soon enough with a wet rag. Harry cleaned the makeup from Louis’ face, and the traces of their sex from his stomach, while Louis looked up at him with a hazy expression.

With a slight hiccup, Louis asked, “Can I give you something?”

“You’re back with me, hm?” Harry asked in return, kissing the tip of Louis’ nose. “Of course you can.”

“It’s in the drawer,” Louis pointed limply, all the energy happily drained from him.

Harry dropped the rag on the ground and searched where Louis told, until he pulled out the only item of worth, a small photograph of Louis in a frame. It wasn’t just any picture, however, it was a professional photo of Louis, dressed very similarly to how he’d dressed tonight. He was posed on a chaise covered in a silk sheet, with his legs crossed and hands rested above his head. On his face was a mischievous smile, similar to the one Harry had gotten very used to the past couple weeks, and a twinkle in his eyes.

“Damn, Lou, this is beautiful,” Harry said, voice full of awe.

“I want you to have it. My friend, he paid for it to be taken and he likes me to display it when he’s here, but…I’m not sure I’m going to see him again.”

“Louis, you don’t have to turn them away for me. I’m not trying to own you.”

“No, sweet man,” Louis purred, running his hand up Harry’s spine, raking his fingers over the skin on the way back down. “I mean, he might be leaving the country soon.”

“Oh.”

“ _Oui_ , he doesn’t want to be here when the trouble really starts,” Louis sighed. He pulled all his strength so he could sit up behind Harry, wrapping his arms around him and hooking his chin over Harry’s shoulder. “I love that photo. And all of this, all of the terrible news, I’m not so sure what will happen to you so I just…I want you to have it. In case they make you leave me.”

Harry’s heart fluttered. He knew some of the other fellas had pictures of their girls hidden in their pockets, like little pieces of home and reminders of something to live for. Something far away and almost imaginary. The thought of Louis turning into something imaginary scared Harry. “I don’t know what I’ll do when I have to leave you, whether it’s for the end of the war or to…” _to go further into constant battle on the front lines_ , he couldn’t make himself say those words.

They sat together and stared down at the picture for a few minutes, until Louis took it and removed it from the frame. “Go get your jacket, _s'il vous plait_.”

Harry hesitated, but ultimately did as suggested, and quickly ran to grab his jacket from where it had been abandoned in the other room. When he came back in, Louis asked him to put in on and sit back on the bed, and so Harry did. Louis folded the picture and slipped it into the from left pocket, right over Harry’s heart. “Lou—”

“No matter what happens, I need to know I’m there with you, Haz.”

Louis pulled Harry into a hesitant kiss, which Harry returned. He had stayed late tonight, and he could feel his time slipping away, even as Louis held on tight by the lapels of his jacket. He couldn’t handle thinking about having to leave again, and the possibility of not coming back. There hadn’t been any word yet, any need to pull troops away, so Harry knew their time together wasn’t over just yet, but what would he do when time was up?

Even if he did go back home, would anyone ever capture his heart the way Louis had?


	4. WEEKS FOUR AND FIVE

The evacuations had begun. Upper class citizens of France had begun to flee to the United States, Spain, and Britain, while most lowers class were trapped to await whatever the Germans were bringing. The troops hadn’t yet been recalled from the frontline, but that frontline was growing closer and closer to Dunkirk every single day. Talks of retreating back to England to regroup and restart had been circling the various units all week long. Every day brought more and more distressing and disenfranchising news, and most people were starting to give up all hope of avoiding global war.

The only solace Harry had was in Louis. He could still get away from the world, could still sneak away to their hideaway, and just exist together. Harry found he couldn’t go an hour without thinking of Louis, needing to feel him and kiss him, needing to make sure he was still safe, and he worried constantly about what was going to happen to him. Louis felt the same, as his days grew longer, because a few of his clients had already evacuated from Dunkirk, making their ways to western France or even Spain. It meant he was left alone almost all day, left with his thoughts of the baker forced to be a soldier, who would come and help him forget all the misery that surrounded him.

Louis had been in the middle of misery for longer than the way, longer than he had known Harry, and the handsome soldier came to him at just the right time. Louis had snatched him up, and attached his daydreams to him, and somewhere his real heart got caught up in it all. What would he do if Harry had to evacuate back to England? How could Louis go on with his life like this, all alone in a war-torn country? Every visit left Louis longing more and more to just run away with him. His heart hurt every time he had to watch Harry leave, and possibly not come back to him.

The stress of it all was getting to Harry, who wished more than everything that he could grab Louis and package him up safe in his pocket, carrying him back home on a ship so they could just be together. Each time they kissed, Harry would grab hold tight, as though Louis could slip away at any moment.

It had been a very long day. They were guarding evacuation caravans from the wealthy, who were incredibly needy and not at all aware of how lucky they were to be escaping this early. Harry was on edge all day, checking his watch and every clock in sight and even the sun itself, so he could count the minutes until he could sneak away to see Louis. He almost didn’t even feel real when he was with the other soldiers, he wasn’t real until he was in Louis’ flat, talking about whatever and getting in bed.

By the time Harry got to Louis that night, he was so worked up his hands were shaking, his voice was rough and he just…he _needed_ Louis. He didn’t want to treat Louis so roughly, but Louis just didn’t seem to mind when he was slammed against a wall, with Harry biting his way into a kiss, and holding him so tight he knew it would bruise in perfect hand prints. The look in Louis’ eyes said that this was what he needed. He needed to be marked up to make sure it was real when Harry inevitably left in a couple hours.

Harry threw them both into the bed, kissing and biting all over Louis’ neck, sucking on the skin until it was purple and raised. Louis mewled above him, tearing off Harry’s clothes and his own as fast as he could.

They were practically feral and animalistic in the way they grabbed at each other, growling and whining into every kiss and every rough touch. Louis sucked on Harry’s fingers to wet them, and stared up at him with wild, hungry eyes, as Harry rut his hard cock onto the bedsheets.

“Baby, I-I need you tonight, I need you to be good for me, let me…fuck let me just take what I want, please Louis,” Harry begged roughly. “You know I’d never hurt you.”

“I know, Haz, just fuck me,” Louis whined, licking all around the wet of Harry’s fingers. “You can use me, it’s okay, I’m here for you.”

Harry tried his best to open Louis up gently, building up to being able to fit three fingers inside. All the while Louis’ body reacted in the most beautiful way, giving in to Harry’s every desire, and practically glowing from every new sensation. “You’re so fucking sexy, Lou.”

When he felt ready, Louis didn’t even ask before turning over on all fours, looking back over his shoulder at Harry, like an invitation. Harry looked like a wild man, short hair unruly and a snarling look in his eyes. He grabbed Louis’ hips and yanked him back, impaling him on his cock, with a rough grunt. Harry fucked into Louis slowly and controlled at first, still just sane enough to let Louis get used to the size, but it wasn’t long until he was moving faster, using Louis’ body for his own desires.

“ _Baise moi_ , oh god, fuck me Harry,” Louis begged, urging Harry to take him harder, rougher, take as much as he needed. Maybe it was wrong, but the feeling of being used by Harry, turned Louis on so much.

Harry let go of Louis’ hips, in favor of grabbing his wrists, leaning all the way over Louis’ body, and trapping them against the bed. Harry continued to kiss and suck the back of Louis’ neck and shoulders, moaning and swearing into Louis’ soft skin.

“ _Fuck,_ you feel so fucking good, Baby,” Harry moaned.

He shoved Louis’ face into the pillow, ramming into him as hard as ever, spurred on by the whimpers and moans of pleasure. Louis couldn’t stop crying out Harry’s name on repeat, arching his back into every thrust.

“ _Harry_ , Harry, touch me, please Haz,” Louis whimpered, voice nearly gone from the cries he couldn’t stop.

With just the tiniest amount of control Harry could find in himself he reached under their bodies and took Louis’ leaking cock in his hands, jerking it along with the rhythm of his own hips, both of them chasing their orgasms together. But Louis was the one to come first, clutching anywhere he could into the bed sheets, biting them even at first, until he couldn’t hold it in anymore.

He came with a breathless gasp, body shaking and shivering, as Harry fucked him through it, and it wasn’t much longer until Harry was coming as well, cock buried deep inside Louis’ perfectly tight heat.

Harry pulled out slowly, huffing out his breaths onto Louis’ aching back. He softly pet up and down Louis’ sides, resting his forehead on the back of Louis’ shoulder, before flopping over onto the bed. It’s only then that Harry sees the bruises he left from his mouth on Louis’ neck, and from his hands on Louis’ sides, and a sting enters Harry’s heart.

“ _Oh fuck_ , Louis, did I hurt you? _Shit,_ I’m so sorry—”

“I’m okay,” Louis hiccupped, falling to his side and turning over to face Harry. His eyes were red and rimmed with tears, but he had a dopey smile on his face. He placed a hand on Harry’s cheek and said wistfully, “You could never hurt me.”

Harry took his hand and kissed the back of his fingers. “I shouldn’t have been so rough, or I should have asked, or…I don’t know, I just lost control.”

“It’s not the first rough night I’ve had,” Louis said.

“Don’t tell me that,” Harry said, voice rougher. He doesn’t want to think about the men that might have mistreated Louis, he can barely handle thinking about the ones who were nice.

They laid in silence for a while, neither sure just how long, while Harry soothed Louis’ aches with gentle, unsure touches. Eventually, he left the warmth of the bed to start a bath, running the water as hot as he could, and lighting a few candles around the dark room. He carefully carried Louis into the bath, then climbed in after to settle behind him. He washed all over Louis’ body, rubbing lavender scented soap into his bruised skin, until Louis leaned back against his chest.

“How are you feeling?” Harry asked, deep voice rumbling against Louis’ ear.

“Better,” Louis said. His head rested back and he looked up at Harry with wide eyes. “How about you? You were so… _vigoureux,_ vigorous? Aggressive.”

“I’m so sorry, Lou, I didn’t mean to scare you.” Harry said regretfully.

“You didn’t, not really. I found it to be incredibly sexy, and I didn’t exactly try to stop you,” Louis said with a shrug. “I’m just worried about you, about everything really.”

“Things just aren’t looking so good,” Harry sighed. “All of the upper class have been moving out, and every day we’re pretty sure they’re going to recall us, and not because we’ve won. We’re losing this battle, Lou, and I just…there’s nothing I can do to fix it. I can’t stop it.”

“Of course not, you’re just one man,” Louis said. “But, you make me feel safe when you’re here. You’re my protector from the world.”

Harry wished he could do more to protect Louis. He wished he could just show up in the war rooms of all the leaders of nations and take them all out. End the war all himself.

They sat together until the water started to go cold, and their skin started to wrinkle, until the only warmth was from their own bodies. The candles went out, and Louis turned over, sitting between Harry’s legs, and running his wet fingers through Harry’s short hair. “I have to tell you something, Harry.”

“Anything.”

“Most of the people you helped leave, most of those wealthy men, they were, umm, well they were my _friends_ ,” Louis said shyly. “And most of my friends, well, they gave me money before they left. They wanted to make sure I was taken care of.”

“That’s nice,” Harry said gruffly. He could take care of Louis better than any of them, if he had money and means too.

“Your jealousy is very obvious, Haz,” Louis said with a playful smile. “I’m only telling you, because we don’t know what’s going to happen, and I don’t want you to worry. We’ll figure it out if we have to, and I’ll be okay.”

“Louis, I don’t even want you think about all that, I can’t…I can’t handle it,” Harry said, unsure if he was talking about Louis leaving him, or Louis being in danger. A little bit of both, really.

They stayed in for only a few more minutes, kissing lazily in the cold water. When Harry realized he must once again leave their safe haven, he helped Louis out of the tub, and carefully dried him off, kissing Louis’ soft skin on every inch he could get, and then carried him back to bed. He kissed each of the bruises he left one more time, then reluctantly packed his things to leave. He felt it each time he left, another small piece of himself left behind, tethered to Louis’ sleeping form.

+

England and France were losing the war.

The Germans had taken the south of France and were advancing North with an unstoppable force. The order to recall British troops from France had officially gone out, and every day more and more men were gathered to the beaches of Dunkirk. The reality of what horrors the front line faced were pushed directly into Harry’s world view, with every new casualty and injured soldier who came back. He realized he’d been one of the lucky ones, wasting his days watching over a town, now nearly emptied of its natives but full of British soldiers.

The rich were able to make their escapes early, and it enraged Harry to no end how many were left behind, with much less time, and far too little resources. Most of all Harry was terrified that Louis wouldn’t be to get out in time, nor did he even know what would happen to Louis when he did. His heart ached at the thought of not being able to see Louis again, to know for sure where he was and that he was safe, but Harry knew it was better to help Louis evacuate now, than to be selfish and let him stay passed a point of no return.

They’d made love every night for the last week, with Harry having to catch himself from crying each time. He had no idea when they met, that he would feel this kind of earth shattering, and soul crushing love, but here he was, and he had no idea what to do with it. He hadn’t even told Louis that these feelings had finally fully formed.

The day Harry got the news that the army would be evacuating, he snuck away for one more night, dead set on making an escape plan for Louis. He greeted Louis at the door with a kiss, their usual way of saying hello these days, and then sat him down to get to the serious business.

“Louis, you have to go. We can’t put this off anymore, okay? I refuse to let anything happen to you,” Harry said urgently.

“Yes, I know—”

“And I know it can be scary, because the world is going insane and nobody truly knows how bad this is going to get, and how powerful the German army is going to get—”

“I agree, Harry—”

“But goddammit Louis, I love you, so I will fight literally anybody to make sure you make it out of here and we can be together for real—”

“Harry!” Louis gasped, grabbing Harry by his shoulders. “Wait, h-hold on…did you say you love me?”

“I—” Harry stopped. He had said it. That feeling that had been buried inside, not so deep at all, but that he wanted to keep inside. He wanted to keep it to himself because revealing it, and revealing his true feelings, could only bring reality crashing down around him. Or, so Harry thought. The look of pure hope and excitement in Louis’ eyes as he awaited an answer, had Harry thinking that maybe, being vulnerable here in this secret pocket of the universe and being truthful about what his heart felt, would only bring them closer. It would only help to preserve what they had built here. “Y-yes. Louis, I…oh fuck, I love you so much.”

“Oh Harry,” Louis sighed, body shaking from the confession. “I…I love you too. I never thought…I didn’t know if I’d ever find love, if I could even really feel it but you…Harry you were made for me. We were meant for each other.”

Harry closed in for another deep kiss, both desperately sealing their confession. It was like some huge weight was finally lifted off them, and the air was clean and breathable. Everything they’d gone through since this war was started, both together and apart, it was all about this moment. It was all leading them here, to each other, to finally finding a love that was real. Love that could be felt and was tangible, between two people who could truly see each other.

Harry pulled Louis onto his lap and pressed their foreheads together. “I love you so fucking much, Baby. And I am going to get you the fuck out of here.”

“Well, actually, um, I might already have something sort of together in that department,” Louis said. He traced over Harry’s cheekbones with his index finger as he explained, “See, there’s a group of people from town that have family in Spain, and they’ve invited me to come along with them.”

“Oh,” the revelry in Harry’s heart paused. “That’s good, that sounds…that sounds very final.”

“Unless you have a better plan?” Louis asked.

“No,” Harry said, dropping on his hands Louis’ thigh, petting the soft skin. “I-I don’t it’s just…fuck you’re really going to have to go. And I have no idea when I will see you again.”

“Shit, how will we find each other again? Harry, I-I don’t know what I’ll do if there’s no hope of seeing you again.”

“There’s always hope, Lou,” Harry said. Something he would have never been saying weeks ago when he first arrived, when he didn’t care what happened to him, as long as he went home at all. He brought his hand up and rubbed at the back of his neck, where he felt the cool metal of a chain. A realization washed over him, and he removed the chain, holding it up so the tags at the end dangled in front of Louis’ face. “Here Lou, when you get to safety, you can write to me, and we will find a way to be together again. I don’t want to live my life without you.”

“A-are you sure?” Louis asked, slowly accept the dog-tags. “Harry, what if something happens to you? I-I can’t accept these from you.”

“Please Louis, I want you to have them. Who knows how long it will be before we can be together, this way you’ll have a part of me with you always. Just like how I’ll have a part of you with the photograph.”

“Okay, yeah, I-I think this can work,” Louis said, fear evident in his voice.

With that settled, Harry was able to calm down a little, and fully read Louis’ mood. “Hey, when do you leave?”

“In a few days, I think.”

“Okay,” Harry said calmly. “You should pack whatever you can, but pack light. A-and I probably shouldn’t come back after tonight…it’s too risky.”

“So this is going to be our goodbye?”

“I’m afraid so my love, but only for now,” Harry said. “We were meant to be together, I feel it. I just know it.”

Louis desperately kissed Harry once again, heart racing and hands clutching hard at Harry’s shoulders, as though if he let go Harry would disappear all together. If what they felt in their very souls was true, the universe would make sure they ended up together. Through this war, Louis would return to Harry’s arms and his kiss, and they would figure out everything else as they go.


	5. WEEK SIX

It all started happening so quickly. Only a day after Harry knew Louis was out of Dunkirk, the Germans finally arrived and tried to take over half the city. About two miles was set between the British-French forces and the newly German occupied land, where a dangerous No-Man’s-Land was created. Barriers of torn down buildings and piles upon piles of sandbags were made to keep the Nazis away from the evacuating troops. Snipers would hide up in some of the buildings from both sides, making it almost impossible to safely pass through the streets, but some incoming men had to make that trek anyway. Harry counted himself lucky to have already been on the beach, putting himself ahead of the line to get on the first boat.

And thank god for that, because they had also heard that there weren’t enough boats ready to actually bring everyone home quickly and safely. Harry heard something about civilian ships coming for them, but that idea seemed completely ludicrous.

Harry managed to get on the first ship, all the while keeping a hand over his left front pocket, right over where the photograph of Louis stayed safely hidden, wrapped up in layers of fabric, safe and secure.

Unfortunately, his ship was hit by a dive-bomber from above, only minutes after setting off. Hordes of men, mostly young shell-shocked already boys, started to panic and run for the exits, all leaping overboard so they could have a chance of swimming back to shore, hoping to just start over on the next warship. Harry jumped out with them, but was swept up in a wave and pushed towards the dock. He was sure he was about to drown, until a hand reached down for him and pulled him up, helping him settle up on the cheaply constructed wood.

As Harry caught his breath, he looked up at his fellow soldier, and recognized him from a few weeks ago. He was one of the boys Harry had tagged along with as a cover to sneak over to Louis’ place. He noticed another boy behind him, visibly nervous and unable to make eye contact.

The three of them stuck together, and sneak their way into the front of the line for a Destroyer, following the rest of the groups of soldiers to the bilge of the ship. They’re greeted by nurses and medics, who quickly shuffle the men through a line to grab bred and drinks. Harry started to ease up, eating as quickly as he could, practically devouring the food really, as he followed the boy and his friend all the way to the back.

They stood together in the corner, as the nervous one climbed up some rafters, and began to unlock the door.

“What’s wrong with your friend?” Harry asked the one who’d saved him.

The boy shrugged as he watched the soldier disappear through the door. “Looking for a quick way out, incase we go down.”

Harry’s entire body froze. He just came from a boat that didn’t make it, surely the universe couldn’t possibly hate him enough to take another one from him.

Almost as soon as the thought crossed his mind, did the ship begin to shake, just as the first one had, only this time the rumbling came from below. Sirens began to go off, the screams from the men and women followed soon after, and shouts about a torpedo began to ring through the ship. Harry felt himself be pulled by the boy up to the door, which was already being held open by their friend.

Something strange happened to Harry’s brain then. As he jumped from the second failed escape ship that day, he almost wanted to stay in the water, let the fires from the oil just burn him up and end this stupid fight, never let himself be used by anyone to fight in some waste-of-time war every again. But then…he looked up at the moon, a just barely there crescent but shining all the same. He remembered that somewhere, Louis is running away from the danger just like him, and by the time Harry gets home there should be a letter from his love. He has to make it out of this. He has to make it back for Louis.

So, he dips into survival mode. He barely feels a thing as they’re kicked off a lifeboat, while some stupid general tells them it will all be okay, as if two giant ships from the world’s greatest Navy hadn’t already been sunk. He lets pure rage and determination carry and motivate him as he swims back to shore with the two other soldiers.

…

Next thing Harry knew, a day had passed and he’d been pulled up onto a civilian boat. There was boy lying dead under a blanket below deck, and Harry wondered what they could have possibly gone through for this innocent kid to have not made it. All so they could be carried back across the sea, back to England and an unknown future.

As the ship bobbed up and down on the salty sea, narrowly escaping another disaster from above, flashes of the last twenty four hours moved through Harry’s memory. He barely remembered it all, how they hid in a beached boat, and were shot at by Germans for target practice, how the boat got carried back out to sink at sea in high-tide, and they all nearly sunk and the boy who had saved them from the destroyer didn’t make just so he could save Harry, and how they came up for air in the middle of oil covered water, just in time for a bomb to set it on fire. Harry remembered being pulled onto this boat. He remembered the screams from the men burning up in the water, so close to being saved. He remembered, but only distantly.

Within hours, they made it back to English soil, but Harry still couldn’t breathe. It had all been a huge waste of their time. They should have never been there in the first place. He almost died several times, and all for a failed mission. The only gift from God that he could recognize was Louis. The only reason in all the chaos for any of the nonsense, were the memories of Louis’ touch, and kiss, and smile.

As the soldiers were handed blankets, by a man who couldn’t even look at their pathetic failure, all Harry could think about was Louis. He had no idea where his sweet boy was. He had no way of knowing if Louis made it out at all. _No_ , he wouldn’t let his mind go there.

He followed his one surviving brother onto the train, and they sat in silence, still covered in oil and ocean water. Harry’s heart hadn’t stopped racing for a day, and he couldn’t find it in himself to relax. Not until he reached into his pocket and pulled out that ball of fabric, unwrapping it to reveal the portrait of Louis. The ends had fades from water damage, and it was folded and wrinkled, but Louis’ face was still perfect and beautiful as ever. Harry pet his finger down Louis’ features on the picture, and finally he felt the muscles of his body relax. His boy was safe, Harry knew he was. He had to be.

There was no way to know how long Harry slept, or even when he fell asleep in the first place. There was a short time when he woke up, and was given a newspaper and two celebratory pops, and told that nobody considered the soldiers to be failures. Harry faked a smile, still not truly able to believe it himself, and let his friend read the announcement. Harry wasn’t listening, not really thought, as the train took them back to London. He looked out the window at all the waving civilians, and men who he knew were going to be forced into much worse than he just was, and an ache began to appear in his left leg.

It nagged Harry so much that he had to look down, and low and behold, there was a huge gash on his calf. The open wound had been bleeding, and all the adrenaline from the escape didn’t let Harry feel the pain until now. It was excruciating.

He held in his screams as he used his jacket to wrap around the wound, tightening it just in time for him to pass out from the pain, the last thing he heard was the sound of his fellow soldier, who’d made it through all the same trials as him, yelling out for a medic.

+

When Harry woke up, his eyes were looking at the ceiling of a London hospital. Hustling and bustling of nurses and doctors all around filled his ears, until a familiar voice took their place.

“Mum! Mummy look, his eyes are open!” His sister’s voice echoed through the room, as the vision of her and his mother came into view.

“Oh my baby boy!” His mother’s sweet voice called out. She looked down at him with tears in her eyes, but the happiest and most relieved smile. “Look at you! How are you feeling? Do you need anything? Nurse! Can we get some water or a doctor, or something! My son has woken up!”

“Mum, let him breathe for a moment, Jesus Christ,” Gemma droned. He clutched Harry’s cheek, and looked down at him with her smile bitten between her teeth.

“God you two, I’m back home for one second and you’re already snapping at each other,” Harry groaned amusingly. “Honestly, how did you survive each other without me?”

Gemma slapped him lightly on the arm. “Actually you’ve been home for a day, but they couldn’t wake you up. Your leg is in a bad state, Haz.”

Harry winced as he sat up, and he finally felt the bandage on his leg. The pain was gone until he tried to move it. “Fuck, what happened?”

“Well, Sweety we don’t know,” Anne said, patting his other arm softly. “The doctor said you must have scratched it badly on some metal or something, but they stopped it from being infected and it doesn’t need to be amputated. The little victories, you know.”

“They’re just going to send you home and hope that it finishes healing up from the stitches, and you’ll have to get it checked in a few weeks, but…you can go home! Today even!” Gemma said excitedly.

Harry wanted to respond with something about the irresponsible and completely cold manner in which soldiers are apparently being handled, but the smiles and joy on his mother and sister’s faces just shouldn’t be shattered.

Suddenly, Harry realized he was no longer in his full uniform, and he began to panic. The picture of Louis, the only visual proof that he wasn’t some crazy fever dream, Harry needed to see it. He needed to hold it in his hands again. “Wh-where’s my uniform? The one I was wearing when I got back, I-I need it, where is it?”

“Hold on, hold on,” Gemma said, rushing into her bag. She pulled out the jacket and his pants, both of which where covered in blood and oil, and she carefully handed them to him. “What’s wrong?”

Harry reached his hand into the left pocket, and once again felt the photograph. He opted against pulling it out in the hospital in front of everybody, not interested in starting a scandal literally as soon as he woke up. “Nothing, nothing. I just…I just wanted to make sure all my things were here.”

The sadness was ever present in Anne’s eyes as she placed her own hand over Harry’s. “Harry, Darling, if everything’s okay, would you like to go home now? We took the car, so it’s going to be a bit of a drive back, but if we leave now, we can get there when the sun has just gone down.”

The very idea of being back at the farm, in the fresh country air, away from war and away from pain, felt like a fantasy. “Yeah, Mum, get me the hell out of here.”

+

The drive home was quiet for the most part, until Harry just couldn’t take it anymore and finally asked to be caught up on what he missed in the village. That request opened the floodgates and he then had to sit through about an hour of miniature scandals and surprise marriages and various other goings on in their little town. The women seemed happy to go on and on, not noticing Harry staring out the window. He mostly just wanted to hear their voices, and was much less interested in the stories themselves.

His drifting off eventually caught up to him, as he felt Gemma start to poke him in the cheek. “Harry? Did you hear me?”

“Sorry,” Harry shook himself from his daydreams. “What did you say?”

“I just asked…well I asked what happened to you. Out there, you know?” Gemma asked nervously.

Harry’s jaw clenched. How could she ask him that? Why would anyone ask him such a thing so soon after coming home? And what was Harry supposed to say, anyway? How could he tell Gemma about all the days the shot blindly in the woods, or how he was just used as cattle to wrangle people of a town and deprive them of rations, or how he nearly died three times on his way to get home? There was nothing worth telling them that would just give them nightmares, and he had a feeling his own would be bad enough to deal with.

There was one thing worth mentioning, however. One perfect little dream.

“You don’t want to hear about any of the bullshit I had to do,” Harry started with a cough. “But, um, I will say that…I met someone.”

“Oh?” Anne perked up. “One of the soldiers? Is that even allowed.”

“Well no, but also I’m not talking about one of the guys anyway. See, um, where I was assigned, I had a lot of time to, like, explore the town, and so I met one of the locals.”

“So, a pretty little French boy has caught your heart?” Gemma asked with a cocked brow and a smirk to her voice. “What’s he like?”

Harry’s lips quirked up into a smile. He wasn’t about to show them the picture, it was far too smutty, but he was thrilled to actually get to speak about Louis with _someone_. “He’s beautiful. He’s sweet. I-I’ve never met anyone like him. You two would love him, I really believe that, because he’s so caring and he’s so witty. Whenever I was with him, I completely forgot about all the trouble with the war, I don’t know how he did that to me but…”

As Harry’s voice drifted off, Anne and Gemma shared a concerned look through the rearview mirror. Gemma placed a comforting hand on Harry’s shoulder. “Where is he now?”

Harry jerked his shoulder away. “I don’t know. I helped him escape last week, and he was supposed to write me when he got somewhere safe. I’m sort of hoping there’s a letter waiting for me when we get home.”

“I’m sure there will be, or at least very soon,” Anne reassured him, even though she herself wasn’t so optimistic.

“Where did you meet him?” Gemma asked.

Again, Harry could feel his body tightening. Where he met Louis was easy enough to be honest about, but the exact nature of their relationship, and everything about Louis…that wouldn’t be as easy of a sell. “We met in town at a tavern. We’d meet up at his place most nights, I’m shocked I didn’t ever get caught.”

“Maybe that’s because you were meant to be, so the universe didn’t try to ruin it. I’m always telling you things work out the way they do for a reason.” Anne said.

Harry supposed she was right. Everything seemed to fit into place when he and Louis were tucked away together, and even through all of the setbacks, Harry had managed to make it home. He was sure when they got back to the cottage, a letter from Louis would be waiting, and his love would be somewhere, completely safe. Ready to escape back to Harry’s arms.


	6. FINALE

The letter was not waiting.

And for a month, nothing arrived.

Harry’s injuring was great enough that he was discharged from his service, so he was able to back to work at the bakery, but everything felt so cold and empty. Each day that passed with no news of Louis, Harry felt his heart grow grayer and more cracked. He tried to reconnect with the people of his village, he tried to play with the children, and involve himself in the everyday needs of a community he once truly belonged to, but every day he felt a distinct barrier between himself and the real world. Just like in France, every place he went here at home without Louis, was not reality. It just wasn’t home without Louis.

His nightmares began that first night back, but they were never of what he expected. He dreamed of holding Louis, and then a great wave filled with fire pulling them apart, and burning them up. It got to the point where he didn’t want to sleep at all. He would walk around like some shell of a man, with pale skin and dark circles under his eyes.

His relationship with his mother and sister was fractured as well. About a week after his return, Gemma found the picture of Louis when she was cleaning up, and after her initial shock, she realized what Louis was.

“A _prostitute_? Harry, you complete idiot, you fell in love with a French prostitute? And then you helped him escape? How on Earth could you not see that he was using you?”

“Shut up Gems! You have no idea what you’re talking about!” Harry had screamed at her. “I love him and he loves me, and it is real, I swear to you!”

“How could we possibly believe that? He made a living off of making men fall in love with him! How do you know what you had was actually the real thing? How could you possibly trust somebody you paid?”

“I never paid him! Our time together was by our own choice, especially by his and he never once even intended on charging me for it! Louis and I were in love, and that was the only thing that made me want to live! He was the only reason I wanted to escape that hellhole and actually come home!”

“WOW. So, Mum and I mean nothing? You didn’t want to live for us?”

“Stop it!” Anne yelled at her children. “Gemma, leave your brother alone! You know that he’s just…he’s just exaggerating! And Harry, I’m sure Louis really did love you, on some level.”

“He does love me!”

“Then why hasn’t he written?” Gemma sneered at him. “Look, I’m not trying to be nasty, I’m really looking out for you. But if Louis really did love you, then where is the letter you have been waiting for? Why hasn’t he written?”

Harry’s mouth dropped open, but no words seemed to be able to make their way out. The truth is, not a single ounce of Harry believed Louis would lie about the love they had, but the real reasons a letter may not have reached him yet, were far to horrible to say, or even think. So, he bolted. He ran through the house and out the back, all the way down the hill and through the vast field, until his bad leg gave out and he fell to the ground with an agonizing scream. He just lay there and cried, praying to any God that might exist that Louis would make contact soon. Harry needed him more than ever, more than anyone could possibly understand.

+

Two months of being home, and still no sign of life from Louis. Harry was a true drone, moving through life as though on puppet strings. Each day he just wasted away more and more. Nothing brought him joy, nothing made him feel anything. Even the nightmares stopped waking him up, because at least in those he was with Louis again. Nothing any sort of meaning.

He still went to work, barely spoke to anyone, and wasn’t creative like he used to be. At least when he was at work, he didn’t have to be under the judgmental eyes of his sister, and completely pitiful looks from his mother. There was nothing they could do to cheer him up, and make him forget that his soulmate was out there, lost.

When Harry was gone, Gemma and Anne prayed every day for him to return, to bring life back to their quiet lives, and relieve them of the constant worry that they had for him. But having him back in this state was far more worse than if he hadn’t come home at all. Anne could barely speak to Gemma since the fight as well, heartbroken for her children and the fractures of their family. When Harry was gone, Gemma and Anne tended to do everything together, but now Anne chose to perform her household tasks in solitude.

She was hanging up laundry on the line to dry, the hot summer sun beating down on her and the field, creating ripples of heat that reflected off the ground. Gemma was cleaning up in the house, watching her mother sadly from the window.

She was roused from her staring by a loud knock at the door, over and over again, and she quickly dropped her chore to answer it.

“Alright, alright, I’m coming okay—oh my god,” with her eyes opened wide and mouth dropped right open, Gemma grabbed onto the door frame for balance when she felt her legs may fail her. Standing in front of her was a beautiful man, with a bright smile, twinkling blue eyes, and a perfectly sharp cheeked face. A face she’d only seen one other time, in a photograph. “Y-you, y-you’re…”

“I’m, um, I’m Louis Tomlinson,” the boy said with a sheepish smile. “And you must be Gemma?”

She stared at him for another moment before finding her voice again to shout, “Mother! You need to come over here right now!”

A moment later, Anne came rushing around from the side of the house. “What’s wrong, what’s—” her words cut off in a gasp. “Is that…are you?”

“I’m Louis, and you’re Anne, then? Harry told me so much about you two,” Louis said sweetly. “Is, um, is he around?”

“N-no, he’s at work—”

“At the bakery?”

“Um, yes, but…I’m sorry,” Gemma laughed incredulously. “I’m sorry, but how are you here? A-And why didn’t you write? Y-You were supposed to write.”

“Oh, yes,” Louis said, crossing his arms over his chest. “Well I wanted to, I was supposed to be in Spain, you see. But plans had to change after the evacuation ended and I had an opportunity to come to England, so I guess I figured…well I thought it would be better for me to actually be here, than to write some silly note.”

“H-How did you find us, Dear?” Anne asked, placing her hands on Louis’ cheeks. She pulled him close so she could look in his eyes, as though that was the only way she’d know for sure he was real.

“Harry gave me this,” He said, pulling a chain from under his shirt, revealing Harry’s dog-tags safely kept around his neck. “He wanted me to be able to find him.”

“Of course he did,” Anne said with a sincere smile. She kissed Louis’ forehead, then quickly turned to Gemma. “Darling, get the car and get this man to the bakery. Now! I’ll meet you there in little while!”

Gemma silently nodded her head, stunned expression still firmly planted on her face. She grabbed Louis by the wrist and pulled him to the car, but she stopped abruptly before getting inside. “Louis, I-I need to say something before we go. You see, When got home he kind of presented us with this fairy tale of you two, and we were happy for him if a bit worried, but then…then I found a picture of you in his things and you were…well you looked a certain way, and I sort of…I don’t know I figured out what you did for a living. And Louis, you have to understand, I love my brother more than anyone else in this world, and I would do anything to protect him. He has been completely falling apart, so when I realized what you were I…well I said some things that I regret, some really awful and terrible things. I’m just so sorry, that I ever doubted you existed or your intentions or any of it. I’m so sorry.”

“Gemma,” Louis sighed, taking her hands and squeezing them to reassure her. “Harry and I…it is _grand amour_ , true love. I promise you that. But I’m also smart enough to understand that maybe my, um, line of work could make me untrustworthy. But I would never hurt Harry, and every day that I’ve been away from him, I have been desperately trying to get back to him. It all sounds crazy, I’m sure.”

“No, it’s not crazy at all,” Gemma said, pulling Louis into a tight hug.

They made their way into the car, and Gemma drove as quickly as she could through the village, in a manner that could only be described as completely reckless. They probably almost killed a few people on the way, but she was determined to mend her brother’s broken heart.

They pulled up the end of Main Street, and Gemma directed Louis to the storefront on the corner, letting him get out while she drove off to park. She wanted them to have some privacy after all this time.

The walk up the cobbled stone ground for Louis was slow, as he took the time to look in the storefront windows. The light was pretty dark inside, and there were no other customers, in fact Louis couldn’t really see anybody inside. As he opened the door, a bell rang above him to alert anyone who might be there.

Before Louis had a chance to call out, a bustling came from the kitchen, and a figure carrying several bags of flower emerged. “How can I help—”

The figure dropped the bags of flower, at the same time Louis shut and locked the door behind himself. They locked eyes, and for a moment, the entire world stopped spinning. Everything around them faded away, and at the same time they both felt completely grounded. Reality shifted back into place, and the world didn’t seem so grey.

“Harry—” Suddenly Louis was swept off his feet, spun around in the air, and all of his breath was sucked out in a deep and smothering kiss. His arms quickly wrapped around Harry’s neck, and he whined into the kiss, tears breaking down from his eyes. They fell back against the door, and Louis couldn’t help but laugh. “Harry—”

“ _Louis_ ,” Harry gasped. “ _Louis, Louis, Louis._ ”

His bad leg started to twinge with pain, and he bucked, falling to his knees, but undeterred Harry just rested his cheek against Louis’ stomach. Louis raked his fingers through Harry’s hair, which was growing in quite nicely. “Harry, I…I’m sorry I didn’t write.”

Harry let out a painful laugh. “ _Fuck_ , who cares. You’re here, Baby. You’re really here.”

“Yeah, and I’ve been waiting so damn long to say this to you again,” Louis started. He helped Harry back to his feet, so he could properly look up into his eyes. “ _Je t'aime,_ Harry Styles.”

“I love you too, Louis Tomlinson.”

They shared one more kiss, the sounds of Harry’s sister cheering for them outside came through the window, but they ignored it. Their bubble still existed. The world was still only real, when it was them. Harry was finally home.

**_FIN_ **

**Author's Note:**

> wish i could still write the way i used to, but thank you for still being with me after all this time. <3


End file.
